Cakebrick road in summer 1981 We shared a house and garden At the height of all the bombing on the run In busy, hazy London Through T-shirt breezes walking home from work County Kilburn sun Weekends we'd just wash away the dirt Of busy, hazy London The night grew cold The Thames is old Found that manners count for nothing and it took A Welshman in his forties Guinness elbows rest upon a tabletop The two of us on earlies Three feet of snow feel on the Walnut Road Two feet trudged Round the corner came The sound of bad dreams The flame is old The Thames is cold Cakebrick Road in summer 1981 We left a house and garden On the corner boys Best of friends